Standing Together
by DarkAgea
Summary: An unexpected death cripples Hermione... and an equally unexpected friendship starts the first steps towards healing. Empathy creates new bonds, because the past doesn't matter - at heart, we are all human, and we always stand together in the face of loss. (Draco/Hermione - Friendship)


**A/N: My first Harry Potter fic. This was supposed to be Dramione, but considering both of their happy marriages, I just couldn't write that. And so, this turned out as Draco/Hermione friendship. Apologies for any OOCness, and please tell if it seems too improbable. This happens before Cursed Child, so not compliant with that. Anyway, enjoy!**

 **-*o*-**

" _But you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."_

* * *

 **Standing Together**

* * *

The crowd had dispersed long ago, and he had watched as the black-robed lady waved off the sea of flaming red around her with some effort.

Draco approached her cautiously. His steps were light, but his mind felt weighed down. He was never good with emotions, having grown up as a Malfoy. Malfoys were far more personal with their feelings, and the most he could expect as comfort from his father was a hand on his shoulder and few words that always were the same, though phrased differently. _'You are a Malfoy. You do not show weakness.'_

"I… am sorry for your loss… Hermione," he said, trying not to let his uncertainty show. 'Granger' would have been far too impersonal, but 'Hermione' was the exact opposite.

He knew how it felt. By Merlin, he had gone through it himself after Astoria's death, but still he felt uncomfortable. This was Hermione Granger, after all, and the two of them had never been on good terms.

' _Or bad, either,'_ he reminded himself. Since the events at Malfoy Manor in their seventh year, he and the Golden Trio as they were called were neutral. They all did their best to avoid each other, but when it was inevitable, it was met with a polite smile and conversation steered far away from any dangerous topic.

He could see Granger was trying to hold back a sob, but it was no use, and she could lower her head as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She raised a shaky hand to wipe her face, smudging black eyeliner around her eyes. "I… Apologies, Malfoy."

There was a pause, before she continued, "Here you are, trying to comfort me while I break into pieces. Over something that's my fault, no less!"

Draco frowned, his eyes narrowing. He may not have liked Ronald Weasley, typical brainless Gryffindor that he was, but that didn't mean he wanted the Weasley to die. It had simply been the rivalry between their houses and their families.

The dark clouds hanging above them finally let loose of the rain that had been building up. The first rain of the season came as a light drizzle. It was at a perfect moment to mask the tears of Granger, and wash away any sign of tear tracks on her face.

"It was not your fault, Hermione." The name slipped more easily from his lips. Perhaps it was the shared grief; though the sufferings of no human were the exact same, there were similarities, and he remembered how he blamed himself for Astoria's sudden death until Daphne had literally slapped him out of it. "You couldn't have-"

"I sent him on that mission, Draco! I sent him! How can it not be my fault, tell me?!" Her voice was high and filled with self-loathing. It was wrong. The Granger he had known in school seemed to have existed decades ago, and it would be impossible to connect that self-assured know-it-all with this lady in front of him.

Draco wished Potter was here now. But the wizard hero was stuck in St. Mungos, having suffered quite a lot of injuries from his last Auror mission.

To rephrase, his last Auror mission with his best friend.

Hesitatingly, he put a hand on Granger's shoulder. She looked up at him, but didn't seem to register what he had just done. If she had, he would have most probably got a punch in repeat of their third year. Or not.

"You are a smart Mud-Muggleborn." He quickly switched, but Granger didn't seem to notice that. "I'm actually surprised you got into Gryffindor over Ravenclaw. And so, you know it's not your fault. Think with that brains of yours. You could not have known this would happen, nor could you have found a way to stop it." Seeing she was going to protest, he added. "Being the Minister of Magic does not make you omniscient, Hermione. Otherwise Fudge wouldn't have been such an idiot."

Granger gave out a shaky laugh. "It's so difficult," she admitted in a small voice, pointedly looking at the ground. "I just- God, I can't handle this." She blinked rapidly.

He looked over at where Daphne was standing some distance away, with a black umbrella covering both herself and Scorpius, whose hand she was holding tightly. His sister-in-law exuded approval as she slowly walked towards them.

"Hermione-?" He asked slowly, and tensed up as the lady in question hugged him tightly, hard enough to break his ribs. Wretched pathetic sobs tore from her throat, and she pressed her face against his thick black robes, near his shoulder, muffling her cries. He was frozen, completely unequipped for dealing with this. As the shock wore off, he embraced her. It was awkward, yes, but sympathy won over him; the conflicted feelings he felt over his wife's death was not something he would wish on anybody.

"It's going to be alright. It may not seem like it, but trust me, it will." He continued murmuring words of reassurance, trying not to sound too sappy but meaning every word he said. The rain turned stronger and the wind howled around them, but Hermione paid no heed as she cried her heart out.

The rain was cut off as an umbrella was held over the two, and Draco gave a grateful look to Daphne Greengrass.

"Don't cry, Mrs. Hermione," Scorpius said, tugging on Hermione's robes. Though childish, there was a subtle command in the boy's words, in a way only a Malfoy could do.

Draco released Hermione, who looked at the platinum-blond child with a watery smile. He picked up his son, and Daphne made sure the umbrella covered all three of them.

"Thank you," Hermione said in a low voice that Draco barely heard it. He acknowledged it with a slight nod.

"Why don't you come over to the Manor for lunch?" Daphne asked, her voice lilting. It wasn't a question though it was framed as one; Daphne's tone made it clear it was an order. Once the Greengrass had believed in pure-blood supremacy, but the revolutionary events of the past years had proven that line of thought to be completely wrong to all of them.

"Oh, no." Hermione shook her head. "I possibly couldn't impose upon you."

"It'll be fun!" Scorpius added his opinion with a wide smile.

"You must come," Daphne said. "It's rare that we get guests over, and Draco isn't good for discussing anything with."

Hermione gave a small smile, and opened her mouth just to close it, unable to find words to express her feelings. Draco and Daphne gave understanding looks.

The four walked away, an unspoken agreement between them to Apparate only when they were out of the cemetery.

"Trust me," Draco repeated, sharing a glance with Daphne. "Sunshine always comes after the rain."

Hermione snorted, brushing away her tears. "I never knew you were this poetic, Draco."

Daphne laughed and he replied, "Blame that on all the romance stories Daphne makes me read. I swear by Merlin, you could create a library of your own with all those books."

Everything would heal with time.

* * *

" _You may have been a git, Malfoy, but thank you. Thank you for taking care of Hermione."_

* * *

 ** _*FIN*_**


End file.
